


Candlelight

by CapnShellhead



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 18:43:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11019303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapnShellhead/pseuds/CapnShellhead
Summary: One of the knights catches Merlin in the act and brings him back to Arthur for punishment.





	Candlelight

**Author's Note:**

> First time writer, long time lurker. I adore this show and Arthur/Merlin. This is the first thing I've written for this fandom. Hope you guys like it!

Merlin’s knees were shaking.

He’d done everything short of trying to spell them still but here he was, his knees shaking like leaves on a tree. Arthur had been pacing the room for what felt like hours. He hadn’t said one word. Honestly, the silence was more frightening than anything he’d done to Merlin before. 

Finally, he spun around to face Merlin head on, his eyes flashing. “What – what were you doing?”

Merlin has to suppress the unwise urge to make a joke about how he’d finally learned to walk on his knees. He doesn’t think Arthur would appreciate it very much. “I’m assuming you don’t mean for me to answer that, sire.”

If possible, Arthur turned a shade darker. “Actually, I do. What the hell were you doing?”

“I was letting off some steam. Is that a crime?”

“In Camelot, yes.” He came closer, his anger subsided for a moment. “You could be hung for this, Merlin. If anyone else had seen…” he trailed off and Merlin feels some shame settle over him. Arthur wasn’t yelling to be an ass, he was worried. For Merlin of all people. He thought the prince didn’t care.

“Of course I don’t care, “ Arthur said, turning away. His hands shook as he crossed his arms over his chest. The tick brought a smile to Merlin’s face.

“But no one else did see. And Sir Loras certainly won’t tell anyone. So,” he comes closer to Arthur beside his great feather bed. “Thank you. My prince.”

Arthur turns his head, just enough for Merlin to hear, “Have you… with anyone else?”

Merlin sensed honesty couldn’t hurt in this situation. “Yes, once or twice.” He heard the unspoken question, “Will and… Lancelot. Before he left, of course.”

Arthur turned around, his eyes wide and curious. “And you… like doing… that?” His voice wavered as if he was expecting Merlin to laugh and reveal this was all one big joke. 

Merlin took pity on him, “Yes, I do.” 

At his smile, some of Arthur’s temperament returned to form. “How? It does nothing for you. How do you get enjoyment out of that?”

Merlin laugh, pleased to have a one up on Arthur in this way. “It makes me feel powerful.” Arthur’s head tilts as he tries to understand. “I can make men weak; I can make them lose their wits with my hands or my mouth. I’ve seen them at the point where they would do just about anything I said. Me! It feels wonderful.” His mouth runs away with him in the end, “Plus, it feels good. I like it, the feel of them on my tongue. The smell of iron, their sweat, the feel of their hands in my hair. The taste isn’t always pleasant but even that satisfies me. I like hearing them say my name and it’s almost as good as touching myself.”

“Merlin, shut up,” Arthur says in a hushed voice. Merlin looks over to see his prince standing with his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Merlin had clearly said too much.

“Arthur,” he began as Arthur stepped forward, his eyes flashing. 

Merlin wasn't scared, not exactly. He knew he could combat anything Arthur could throw at him. No, it was more like he feared for what would become of this friendship. He needed Arthur. Not just because Kilgarrah spouted flowery metaphors about coins. He needed Arthur because he loved him. He had risked his own safety time and time again for a clumsy manservant. He led his men into battles to protect the good people of Camelot. All of them. He was a hero. He was a prat but he was a good man nonetheless. 

“Shut up,” he repeats as his hands settle on Merlin’s shoulders. Merlin feels his stomach twist in anticipation as he pictures Arthur pushing him down and unlacing his trousers. After all, he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t imagined what it might feel like to take Arthur’s cock into his mouth. He’s picturing it vividly as Arthur pushes him back onto the mattress. 

And drops to his knees.

“Sire, what – what are you doing?” Merlin asks as Arthur’s hands reach for his laces. Arthur eyes him insolently and continues, undoing Merlin’s fastenings and pulling him out. He’s half hard in Arthur’s hand but that quickly changes with some deft handling on Arthur’s part. In no time, he’s panting and watching as Arthur eyes him hungrily. Then he grows hesitant, his eyes unsure. “What is it?”

He bits his tongue, his hand nervously stroking Merlin’s cock for want of something to do. Then Merlin understands. He leans back on his elbows and clears his throat. “So, you just… you know – it’s been ages since I’ve been on this end of it.” He tries to explain, remembering how Will had done it the first time they’d snuck out to the barn together. “It feels good if you just – er – lick it? From the bottom to the top.” His face is likely to melt by the end of this. 

Arthur eyes Merlin skeptically but does as he’s told. His pink tongue peeks out as he gives Merlin a brazen lick from root to tip. He pauses afterwards, as if gauging whether or not he likes it. The he does it again, swiping his tongue over the head and sending wildfire through Merlin’s blood. “That’s good, really good.” He sucked in a breath and continued, “If you’re up for it, you can put the tip in your mouth. The heat from your mouth feels good and you can sort of – sort of lick the top of it. And suck - yes, like – like that, Arthur,” he loses his track of thought as Arthur follows his instruction.

He engulfs Merlin’s cock swiftly and confidently, like he’d done this before. His eyes trail up Merlin’s form to his face. Through hazy eyes, he can see Arthur’s smug expression as he swallows him down. It’s the same look he wore when he bested a larger knight in battle or earned the last word with Morgana. The look that said he’d conquered something and he was rather proud of himself. Even if that something was his stuttering manservant. 

Merlin moans softly and tries to keep his head, even as his body betrays him. He can feel the soft, crushed velvet beneath his back as he falls back on the bed. Arthur’s bed. He was lying back on the prince’s bed as he sucked his cock. How had this happened?

His cock is cold in the chilled air as Arthur pulls back and swipes his tongue along the side again. He’d gotten more brazen as his forearm comes up to bar Merlin’s hips to the bed. He sits up higher on his knees as he takes more of Merlin into his mouth. Merlin can’t resist calling out as he feels that familiar heat in his stomach. He’s close, any minute now and he doesn’t want to be hanged for treason because he didn’t give out a warning.

“Arthur, I’m - I’m so close.” His eyes fall shut as Arthur continues to take him in his mouth. His tongue teases at the slit, slides roughly over it as Merlin struggles to fight the arm across his lower half. He feels his magic brimming within him as he tries to reign himself in. As if hearing his thoughts, Arthur sucks him down harder, bobs his head as he takes him in. “Oh gods – Arthur, Arthur, sire,” it slips out before he can take it back. It felt so unbelievably dirty to use a word like that a time like this. He certainly wasn’t serving his prince at the moment and yet he yearned to use the word. It was his respect, his thanks. 

His eyes open just in time to see Arthur’s dark gaze as he swallows him down again. Merlin finally gives in; he shakes as he spills over Arthur’s tongue. He feels his magic erupt in some fashion – he’s almost too afraid to look. Arthur’s hand continues to stroke him, as if encouraging him to spill more of himself into Arthur’s mouth. His bones turn to mush and it’s all he can do not to fall asleep in Arthur’s bed.

When he opens his eyes again, Arthur’s forehead is pressed into his thigh as his hand works between his legs. He struggles to rise, his fingers slipping into Arthur’s hair. At the touch, Arthur groans and Merlin feels him shudder, his breath hot on Merlin’s thigh as he comes. 

He pulls Arthur into bed, well encourages mostly as Arthur climbs in on his own. The prince pulls the rest of his clothes off and tosses them on the floor. It must be nice to have someone else to pick up after you, Merlin muses for the hundredth time. He expects Arthur to kick him out any minute now but he never does. Merlin turns his head to see blue eyes watching him quietly. Merlin wasn’t sure if it was the candlelight that added the softness. 

“Was I… okay?” Arthur asked, the uncharacteristic self-consciousness returning. 

“You were perfect,” he says hurriedly, although a yawn in the middle of it lessened the effect some. Arthur smiles at him fondly, again a trick of the candlelight, Merlin assumes. “Thank you.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and pulled the covers over them both. “You’re not to do that again.”

“I can’t promise that,” Merlin says as he closes his eyes. He doesn’t need them to see Arthur’s glare. 

His voice is stern, “Never again.” A pause, “Unless it’s here.”

“Of course. Sire,” he adds snarkily, earning another glare. He opens his eyes to see Arthur watching him contently. Then, because he can’t resist, “I shall bring them to your chambers.”

Arthur smacks him in the face with a pillow, his eyes bright and fond in the candlelight. As he falls asleep, Merlin thanks the gods Arthur hadn't questioned how the candles miraculously lit themselves.


End file.
